


Follow You Into the Dark

by Eisengrave, selwyn



Series: Transformers various Roleplay Fiction [10]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eisengrave/pseuds/Eisengrave, https://archiveofourown.org/users/selwyn/pseuds/selwyn
Summary: What turns a titan from guardian to juggernaut? What turns a godly Prime from peace to war? What freedom is there in conformity?Vigilem and Liege Maximo did not begin their lives with such questions, but they could certainly answer them now.[follows IDW mostly except for the creation of the Primes, titans and regular mecha]





	1. Love of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> We're very willingly mashing up TFP with IDW here in terms of Primus creating people. soooo self-indulgent.

Liege Maximo was his Prime.

He waited patiently as each one of his brethren was given to one of the Thirteen. Each of them was to be their home, their heart city, the sprawling cradle of their power. He burned for it. At long last, his creation would make sense to him. He was made to serve, and yet he’d had to wait for a master to fulfil him.

He had no name. 

When the great creator, Primus himself, brought him into life, he’d asked what a name was. Primus had given him a radiant, patient look and explained that he would receive one when it was time to become what he was made for. What, he’d asked, was he to do? Primus had smiled and told him he would become home and guardian to countless others.

Who these others were, he did not know. All he’d seen was his radiant creator and his brethren. And the Primes. They were much, much smaller than he and his brothers, but they shone with the same bright light as the creator. They were born with names. Prima, the first, the leader. Megatronus, the warrior. Nexus, the solver of riddles. Onyx, the beastmaster. Solus, the maker. Liege Maximo, the cunning. Alpha Trion, the keeper. Alchemist, the dreamer. Micronus, shape-shifter. Vector, the guardian. The Arisen, the mystery.

One by one, they received a titan. One by one, each titan received a name and disappeared across the planet with their Prime. Caminus, Metroplex, Tempo, Metrotitan, Chela, Prion, Trypticon, and Navitas...all of them had been named.

He was not the last but he waited a long time nonetheless. He rested on the ground before Vector Sigma, bowed and ready to receive what he had been promised. His lord, his Prime, and his very own name.

 

In the harsh, primordial landscape of Cybertron, the Thirteen were forged and given purpose. Each of them, powerful and vast, went to their own corner of the planet after taking a titan to be their loyal servant and hearth. Liege Maximo awaited in stasis, not fully aware of the passage of time and yet alert.

The great giants who were meant to serve them were docile, servile, even placid. When it came time to join their master, they gladly left the horde of titans for their new role.

When his turn came, he found his titan already waiting for him.

He was as tall as his brothers and equally taciturn. The wan light of Vector Sigma washed him out so that he was a ghost of pale yellow and dim blue, and yet his optics glowed fiercely. Liege was tiny before him but he tilted his face up in judgment of the titan, measuring him as if to see his worth.

He placed his servo on one giant balled fist. 

“...you shall be known as Vigilem,” he said after the silence stretched on. “Be always loyal to me, Vigilem, and be true, and I will be a good master to you.”

 

Vigilem. He finally had a name. Something for himself, something that belonged to only him. Vigilem. He liked it. It suited him well.

His master was small, but powerful. Vigilem could feel it in his touch, which was electrifying. Vigilem felt his systems rev, parts of him transforming in eager anticipation. Finally, his purpose would be found. His master would show him.

“My lord. I live to serve you. I give you my loyalty and my life.”

 

“Wonderful,” Liege said, smiling. “Then follow me. I’ll take us home.”

Without much ado, fanfare, or celebration, Liege led his titan away from the light of Vector Sigma. Which titans the rest of his brothers would take, he did not know. He would find out later when it was time for him to speak to all of them. For now, he had his own home to establish.

Liege chose a home underground, protected by the impenetrable mantle of a mountain range. With his powers, he carved out a great warren below that was tall enough to fit Vigilem and wide enough to suit him. From the obsidian, he raised a great manse whose height oustripped even Vigilem, and carved it all to suit his whims.

He had Vigilem as his fortress already, but it would please Liege to have more. When he was done and pleased with his creation, he turned to his first servant with his arms spread. “Here it is,” Liege declared, “our home. It is ours as much as you are mine.”

 

Vigilem watched his master work with great reverence. What marvels he was capable of! Such power was contained in so small a frame, it was impressive. Vigilem brimmed with an eagerness to please and to show his master what he in turn could do.

“My lord. Do you wish for me to transform? I am to be...a home. The creator spoke of it.”

Although, if Liege Maximo could do all of this on his own, did he really need Vigilem?

 

“I am aware. But you will not only be a home for me. There will be others. This… this is just the beginning.”

Liege turned to Vigilem, enigmatic smile still on his face. “But transform. I wish to see what my servant is capable of. There is much more to do than this, and you’ll be with me for it.”

 

Vigilem bowed his helm, eager to show his master what he was capable of. He kneeled at first, limbs folding out into buildings, streets, everything he’d been designed to provide. Nothing was coloured or had any particular style, the metal a fresh silver, bright as the forge it had come from.

Vigilem easily filled what space there was. He’d done this before, but with only the optics of his fellow titans on him, he did not know what it looked like. Was he a sight to see? Was he spacious? Was he pleasing?

With a final puff, the central tower that housed Vigilem’s brain and spark emerged, light blue, untouched, unmarked. In silence, he awaited his lord’s judgement.

 

Liege watched the transformation occur, impressed by how intricate it was. An entire city was stored inside that gigantic frame, compressed and locked together until it was time to unfold. When it was complete, he stepped into the silver city and spun around, taking it all in. He touched walls, streets, and columns, wondering at the fact that this perfect little locale was all  _ alive _ . He could feel the humming underneath it all, like one great pulse.

“You are perfect,” he said, satisfied by everything he saw, “I could ask for no better.”

Liege leaned into a wall, patting it, and nodded to himself. “We’ll have much to do, I think. But for now… this is enough.”

 

-x-

 

The days after he took his titan became increasingly busy. Their creator was not content to merely leave his planet to his Thirteen Primes and their titans. More followed - new generations of titans, creatures of land and water, and most strange of all - the smallest mechanisms of them all. They were mirror reflections of both Prime and titan, but had no power beyond what they immediately needed for survival. They were small and numerous, and after a period, they began to gather around the Primes.

Liege found his tribe to be rather amusing - they quickly adopted his philosophies and dogged his steps, bright and eager to learn. He allowed them to shelter under his shadow and his name became the badge and rally. Similar occurred elsewhere, until proto-nations were formed.

In a short century, each Prime amassed quite a following. With nowhere else to go, they flocked to the titans to provide them shelter and homes. Those who called themselves Liege Maximo’s followers came to his underground home and after a fashion, he let them loose on Vigilem.

“Look at them,” he commented to Vigilem, “they’re so small, aren’t they? Had Primus planned this when he created your kind?”

The secondaries were energetic in settling down. Suddenly, the empty silver city ceased to be, replaced by constant hubbub, chatter, and color. Streets were painted, buildings were decorated, and new things were added - statues and shops, signs and stands - until it was unrecognizable. They lived, fueled, fragged, vented, and died, as sweet and short as mayflies. They said their thanks to Vigilem, though the act grew more and more ritualistic as time passed and mainly done out of obligation.

 

Vigilem knew that this was his purpose. The secondary creations were small enough to fill his city. They grew in number and took his buildings. They made them their own, painted, redesigned, crawled through his smallest places and searched every cavity they could. Everywhere but the tower that housed his brain, life was being lived in happy cycles.

Across the globe, he could feel his brethren, each experiencing something similar, expressing their joy and fondness of the secondaries and their bustling life. Vigilem waited for the day they would become dear to him. But he waited in vain. Each year that passed lessened the gratitude expressed for him. Each new generation seemed to remember less and less that their city was alive beneath their tiny pedes. They began to change his construction, the streets became filthy, and Vigilem still waited for the day he might love his secondaries.

It never came. So Vigilem turned to Liege Maximo, delicately touching his mind. He'd not used his voice in years.

“My lord. My lord, may I speak with you?”

 

“You need not ask,” Liege said, not looking up from the gadget he toyed with. Onyx had gone on one of his journeys again, and brought something back for all of them. Liege wasn’t quite sure what to make of the puzzle box he had been given, but he was determined to solve it.

“Is something the matter?” To them, time passed quickly - centuries were mere blinks and millennia were months. Liege danced around the world, between each brother, spinning his web, and alighted home only on occasion. There was a change in the air, he could tell. He chalked it up to Megatronus spending much of his time making cow eyes at Solus, who delicately ignored it while preening privately. 

 

Vigilem was embarrassed to bother his lord about this, but he did not know where else to turn. When he had tried bringing up questions with Caminus, he quickly learned that his brother was enchanted with his secondaries, treating them as pieces of himself even though they top bustled around and carved into him. Caminus had adopted the paintings of his citizens, changing the ones all titans shared, instead bearing the marks of his citizens proudly on his face and frame. Caminus was no help at all.

“I have...thought on my purpose.” And found it outside of his liking. Could he tell Liege Maximo this, or would he be angry? Would his master be disappointed? Vigilem would see.

“When will it feel good?”

 

“...feel good?” Liege repeated, as if saying it again might make more sense. He finally set the puzzle box aside and regarded his titan, a questioning look on his face. “There’s no timetable for that. You don’t start or begin to feel good - it just does. Or, at least, that is how Prima once described it to me.”

He plucked up the box again and observed it narrowly. “I don’t believe in that, of course. I find it to be very… silly, I suppose, to think that every set purpose will feel good and satisfying.”

He spun the top of the box and growled when it only seemed to lock tighter. “Is that what bothers you, Vigilem? Does your purpose dissatisfy you?”

 

“Yes, my lord. I do not...” he lowered the impact of his voice, even though Liege was the only one who could hear him. Somehow, he knew this was not how he was supposed to feel. This was not what Primus intended for him.

“I do not like being lived in by... _ them. _ They paint my walls. They sully my limbs. They’ve even deconstructed some. I...they crawl through me, and I detest the very notion of laying still for eternity. They thrive and I can do nothing but watch.”

 

Liege ran a finger down a seam in the box, digesting what Vigilem said. “You dislike it? Why have you only told me this now?”

Liege had never thought Vigilem would dislike his function - he certainly didn’t think that any of the other titans expressed such thoughts. Or did they, but they did not share it? He was not sure and that would have to be rectified.

“Why do you continue to do this then, if you dislike it so much?”

 

“...It is my function.” Vigilem had to wonder if every master was as understanding as his own. He knew the Primes were all different, and each of their relationship with their titan was different, but those were not things he and his kind discussed when they let their minds mingle.

Which they did, often. All of the titans were in city-form, playing host to each primal tribe. But their minds connected in a nexus only they shared, and Vigilem had found not a single strand of discontent among his brothers. They shared their love for their citizens and how they, in turn, would serve them better.

Vigilem had already withdrawn from Caminus and Chela, who were always eager to burst out in praise of their secondaries.

“My brethren say they are happy to serve them, but I only serve you gladly. They...the secondary...I do not wish to serve.”

 

Liege finally left the puzzle box as a loss, and set it aside on a corner of his desk. He stood and walked nearer to his window, where he could see the city. It was alive now, no longer silent nor silver, and Liege wondered what Vigilem thought of it. Had he liked himself to remain quiet? Would he have preferred his halls to remain chrome?

...had anyone  _ asked _ Vigilem if he desired these changes?

The uncertainty expressed by his titan brought a slew of questions forth to Liege’s attention. Disturbed, he let his physical form disassemble and gather again where Vigilem’s brain module was stored. The chamber here was still silver, at least, and noise did not penetrate here. In the sudden silence, Liege’s steps echoed.

“Would you keep your function if you had the choice?”

 

His lord was close. Vigilem could feel it, instantly, and it soothed him somewhat. Liege Maximo spent much time away from Vigilem, leaving the titan in the dreadful silence. He could always hear the small voices of his citizens, but they were fleeting and never for him to speak with. He wondered if they could hear him, if they could feel the pulse of his spark, or the sound of his idling engine that kept everything in their homes running. He wondered if they knew that each thick cable digging for resources was part of him when they hacked holes into them, getting what he would have supplied to them that much sooner.

“I would not, my lord, but I will not disobey you.” 

He didn’t mean to be defiant, but did it not matter if he, Vigilem, was unhappy with his existence?

His brethren told him that this would pass. That he would love his citizens and live their lives with them, through them, experiencing thousands of adventures without leaving his position as their guardian.

“Why can I not be free?”

 

“You do not disobey me at all. No, this is my fault. I should have seen this sooner, rather than force you to confess it.” He pressed his servo against the brain module that dominated the center of the room. “Will you forgive me for neglecting you so much? After such loyalty, I should repay you better than this.”

The question of freedom struck a chord, and Liege could not stay still for long. He paced in the chamber, back-and-forth, back-and-forth, unable to be still as his mind raced. “You’ll not be forced any longer, Vigilem. Buildings can be replaced. Cities can be rebuilt. If necessary, our people can live elsewhere.”

He spun on his heel and laid his servo on a thick tube running along the wall. “You are free, Vigilem. I make it so.”

The chamber echoed with the rumble of Vigilem’s joy. His master was so understanding and kind, how could he have doubted Liege’s response to Vigilem’s discomfort? He vowed to be more direct with his Prime, who was different from all the rest. Let Chela brag about the creativity of Onyx, or Caminus glow with pride about Solus, Vigilem knew his lord was the only one kind enough to give his titan a choice.

“I forgive you and thank you, my lord.”

What Vigilem would do once he wasn’t bound into city-mode, he did not know. But he would have a choice to make, and that was worth it. That was all he asked.


	2. Chapter 2

After Liege released Vigilem from his duties, he was faced with the more pressing issue of how one resolved the problem of moving out a city’s worth out of people. Liege eventually solved it over many years, instructing his tribe to begin to sustain themselves on their own rather than rely on someone else for survival, making them build underground warrens and cities, until Vigilem became unnecessary to survival. After his internals were vacated, Vigilem was allowed to transform for the first time in centuries.

Liege oversaw his first change back to his base form. He watched from his balcony, quiet and introspective as his servant shifted. The notions of choice and freedom came back to him again, but Vigilem was freed now, was he not? It was completed.

 

Vigilem revelled in his freedom to choose his shape. He did not mourn the absence of the secondaries for a second as he folded his limbs in and rose from the ground. Complete, whole, his own self again. How he’d missed having a face, making expressions and being, well, a person. His processor was designed for more, but he wanted less. He did not want to be the silent guardian of thousands of lives. How could he treasure what he never knew himself?

He couldn’t, and his lord had understood. Relieved, the titan bowed his helm to his lord in his keep.

“My lord, if you can spare me, I would like to see my brothers.”

 

“It has been a while, hasn't it?” Liege used Megatronus as a measurement for time - the sappier his gaze got, the further along they were. Right now, he was pining after Solus with an almost sickening sort of puppy love, which was just all sorts of entertaining. Occasionally, Liege goaded them on, passing along ‘love notes’ and snickering as he watched Megatronus scramble before Solus caught him being embarrassing.

His particular brand of diplomacy continued with the other Primes as well. Liege was startlingly good at it, though he really shouldn’t be so surprised. Say the right thing here, assuage someone’s pride there, and offer some flattery all around, and  _ everyone _ was your friend. His little tribe emerged from their underground warrens and out to the surface. The vast plains here were empty - ripe for development. The Forgotten Plains -  _ his _ plains.

Megatronus might beg to differ, given that he’d been an utter aft running amok here early on, but that ceased to matter now. With their shared alliance, all of the Thirteen no longer edged on each other’s lands.

Well, supposedly. In reality, all of them remained vigilant and jealous. Onyx occasionally cast his far-seeing optic on Megatronus’ Darklands and Micronus was jealous of everyone and everything. Nexus and Solus might have been the most passive of them all, but even they were ruthlessly tight-fisted with what they thought as theirs. Really, if Liege hadn’t been here to grease the gears and oil words, it  _ all  _ would have dissolved into war long ago. What did a little lie matter if it made everyone happier?

So Prima could get a kindly-worded letter from Megatronus that Megatronus never wrote. Alchemist and Onyx could drink together, and Liege could tell them about how much Nexus admired them. Micronus could be given honeyed words and Alpha Trion could be befriended. It wasn’t as if they would have done it themselves.

Liege was just doing what was  _ necessary _ .

He regarded Vigilem fondly. He’d gotten some concerned words from his tribespeople about why they’d been banished from their home, but Liege explained it all. Why, Vigilem was needed for something else. No, no, he couldn’t say exactly what, it was top-secret Prime business. Vigilem was under orders, that was all.

Just a little lie to help along his most favorite. Like this, who would question Vigilem’s activities? He was just serving his Prime, like he should.

“Of course you may. Travel a little, see the sights, maybe walk across Cybertron and find something interesting for me. Speak with your brothers. Just come back to me in the end, Vigilem.”

 

“My lord, I always will,” Vigilem was moved by the trust placed in him. Liege didn’t have to grant him any rights, or favours. As a Prime, he had complete control over his titan, who had been given to him as whatever he deemed necessary. All titans understood it, and were at peace with their serving role. They fulfilled others and through that, themselves.

But Vigilem had his doubts in his purpose and had trusted his Prime with them, and Liege Maximo had made effort to relieve Vigilem of his problems. If that wasn’t a good, kind leader, Vigilem would give up his helm.

“Of that, I am sure. You are worth being loyal to.”

He would take his Prime’s offer to walk Cybertron. He would see the world his brethren whispered about, would see the planet as it grew and was shaped by the will of the Primes and their tribes.

 

With Liege’s blessing, Vigilem was released on the world. His travel was not unnoticed, however - more than one Prime noted the stray titan seemingly wandering the planet without purpose. Liege assured them all that it was all fine - Vigilem had permission, he was merely carrying out orders, nothing wrong - and the optics turned away, if still suspicious.

It was after sufficient time passed that Caminus, ever-concerned and gentle, chose to call Vigilem and ask what he was doing away from his tribe and Prime.

_ ::Brother. Is something wrong?:: _

 

Vigilem enjoyed his lengthy walk. If he really wanted to, he could cross the planet quickly, but the titan took his time instead and looked at everything he could see. The sprawling lands of the Primes were populated beyond the limitations of each titan. Cities cropped up, built by secondaries, without the need for a living core. Vigilem preferred it that way. If those buildings were felled, there was no suffering. Dead metal could bow to the whims of the small mecha bustling around; he would not.

And as he saw more of Cybertron, the less he thought of his function as rightful. Why were they denied such views and freedoms? He stared at the ocean for four days without moving, taking in its blue depth. 

He had been contemplating taking a walk into it when Caminus pushed at his mind, gentle and concerned.

_ ::Why do you ask, brother? Have you seen the sun rise today? I watched it crest over the waves of the sea.:: _

 

_ ::Why are you so far from home?::  _ Caminus was the gentlest of his brothers, prone to generosity and kindness more than most. It made him the most loved of all the titans among them, because Caminus had not a single unkind word for anyone. Even Vigilem, alarming aberrant though he was, was treated the same.

_ ::Has something happened? Did Liege Maximo banish you?:: _

 

_ ::No, I did nothing to displease my lord.:: _

Caminus’ concern was misplaced. Vigilem was the luckiest of them all, having a Prime who understood his plight and allowed him to roam free. How could the titan remain where he was, souring away as the secondaries lived and died, free of concern, free of the knowledge that their lives had depended on the living city?

_ ::I am...taking a walk.:: _

 

_ :A… walk?::  _ Caminus repeated after him, perplexed.  _ ::Should you not be at his side? What about your people? They need you. You should be with them, protecting them, not wandering around.:: _

With a little huddle, Caminus hunched around some of his residents. He couldn’t imagine leaving any of them - what would they do without him? They could build their own homes, their own cities, but he was loathe to leave them knowing that he could simply be their hearth instead. Each little spark pulsing inside him made his own spark warmer, knowing that they were safe within his thick walls. How could Vigilem leave behind the warm fraternity of this purpose for the empty wilds?

_ ::Vigilem, you worry me. If something is truly amiss, you can tell me. I shall not tell a soul.:: _

 

_ ::They can protect themselves.:: _ Perhaps Vigilem’s rebuff was a little too harsh, but he tired of Caminus’ doting emphasis on the needs of the small mecha. They were not incapable. Vigilem had seen what they could build, how far they could go. He had overtaken a few caravans of settlers, and they had no titan at their side to protect them. Pure curiosity had him watch them for several hours, and Vigilem fought with the notion that they were  _ awfully _ small and fragile. Why should someone so great, so powerful as he, give himself over to service to such miniscule blips in time?

_ ::I want to see the world. Do you not tire of lying beneath them all cycle, Caminus?:: _

 

_ ::They see the world for me,:: _ Caminus said earnestly.  _ ::Each one of them leads fascinating and beautiful lives. What is there to tire of? If I am bored, I speak to them. If I want to know more, I speak to them. I don’t need to see one world when I have thousands of worlds within me.:: _

It brought him a particular sense of peace to lay like that, listening to the drone of his little residents, feeling the patter of their pedes, sensing their tiny EM fields interact with his own. Each one was a star, however briefly it flared, and each was beautiful in its own way.

_ ::You find your joy in them, not out there. It’s not what we do.:: _

 

_ ::They do not speak to you. They do not listen, and they do not answer. How can they teach you more? Are you not curious to lay your own optics upon something? Do you not want to feel what they enjoy? Do you not think it is unfair that we must serve them? They are insignificant. Tiny. Short-lived. Why should we serve them, and not they us?:: _

Vigilem had given it some thought and arrived at the conclusion that he was deeply jealous of the secondaries. They got to live extraordinary lives, even if they were brief. Why did the titans have to endure the eternal absence of such things? It wasn’t fair and if their creator was still present, he would ask these questions of him.

 

_ ::Vigilem!::  _ Caminus’ soft tone became sharp with offense. The titan was temporarily roused and a wall shook, but he quickly gentled before his residents could grow alarmed.  _ ::You say horrible things, brother. What has poisoned your spark so much?:: _

This jealousy and resentment was unbecoming of a titan. It was… disturbing, even, to realize what black thoughts went through Vigilem’s helm. If they were allowed to take root, the weeds born from such vile seeds would strangle the whole garden.

_ ::Primus made us with this purpose, brother, just as the Primes were made to defeat Unicron. How could you deny what he gave you?:: _

 

_ ::What has he given me? A mind to idle in boredom as my frame is infested by lesser mecha? Optics to watch them frolic and love and live as I am frozen to serve them? Primus has not given us gifts, brother. Primus is punishing us, and I do not know for what.:: _

Caminus was perhaps the wrong titan to speak to about all of this, but he’d asked and be the first to know the truth of Vigilem’s ponderings.

 

_ ::You let your jealousy blind you to the joys of our lives,::  _ Caminus said. He was not accusing, never accusing. It was not in his nature to be so - he said it sadly, as if he were witnessing the death of something beloved.  _ ::Don’t do this to yourself, brother. Don’t grow so apart from us. Give your people a second chance. Open your spark and mind to them, and let go of selfish thoughts.:: _

He knew it was futile. Vigilem had always been the most stubborn of them all, outstripping even Metroplex. He was rough and direct, and many despaired of ever trying to sway him. Only Liege’s quicksilver ways to could temper him, which was most likely why Primus had elected them to stand together.

Perhaps Caminus would need to prevail upon Solus to aid him in this endeavor. He was an uncommon one, even among the Primes, and perhaps if Liege’s glib glossa would not change Vigilem, then Solus’ wisdom might.

_ ::Does Liege Maximo know of this? Have you told him?:: _

 

_ ::My lord gave me permission to walk. He knows I am not exulting in my function. He listens. He speaks with me. He understands.:: _

It was nothing short of utter devotion in Vigilem’s tone when he spoke of his Prime. Liege Maximo had already proven understanding and worthy of loyalty. If he had tasked Vigilem with returning to being his capital city, the titan would have obeyed. But he did not, and so, the Prime proved himself even greater, because in his wisdom, he allowed Vigilem his mind, instead of trying to shackle it like poor Caminus.

Vigilem knew that his mind would not change. He would mask his contempt. The secondaries were, after all, subjects to his lord. He would serve them for Liege Maximo’s sake, not their own, for he gained no joy out of watching them live fulfilled lives as his festered.

_ ::Do not worry, Caminus. I have no intention of growing apart. But I am learning...and I wish to share it with all of my brethren.:: _

 

It was no promise to undo the damage he’d wrought, but there was hope yet. Perhaps they, through patience and care, might reach out to him finally and gain understanding of what caused Vigilem to swerve so dangerously from his path. For now, Caminus would not seek argument.

_ ::Please do,::  _ he said,  _ ::Vigilem, you know you can speak with us. Liege Maximo is not the only one who listens.:: _

_ He’s just the only one who’ll let you have what you want, _ Caminus noted but did not say it. To say it would be to invite further quarrel, and Caminus was done for now. Solus was in his forge again, striking his hammer against something in a great creative outpour, and Caminus wanted to watch what new miracles would come out. He would leave Vigilem to his consideration of the water and hope quietly that he would understand.

 

Vigilem remained silent, deadening his end of their communication nexus as he returned his gaze to the water. Caminus did not understand. He was still blinded by the idea of being nothing but a great caregiver and guardian. Vigilem was not the one ignorant to the truth, and his brethren would deny it every step of the way.

Vigilem would be patient and kind, unlike their creator.

He would teach them. He’d teach them until they understood and welcomed his personal wisdom, what he had achieved through his own means, into their own minds. And then the titans would rise from their city forms and walk as he did, learn as he did.

Soon, he would return to his lord’s domain. And if Liege Maximo pleased, he would tell him what a titan could do and become too.

 


	3. Chapter 3

When he returned to the carved underworld, it was not so quiet anymore. Vigilem’s helm and memories were full of sights and sounds, on the planet, off the planet, and his mind was busy filing everything away. Liege had called for his return, however, and Vigilem had made haste to obey. How many years had passed since he left for his stroll, he did not know.

 

The Primes are the first-forged of Primus. They are the reflections of his image and though their shapes and demeanors varied, they were united by power. Even if one eschewed religious idolatry, the Primes were significant,  _ magnificent. _ Destiny warped for them, and they walked with intensity in all things – purpose, vision, drive – until all the creations made after them had to gather and bend the knee.

To put two Primes on one planet together was to ultimately invite a clash between them. It was in their nature to do so – they were too great, too big, too  _ expansive _ to allow anything else.

Liege Maximo had thought, in his infinite arrogance, that he could divert this unavoidable fate. Through guile and guidance, he thought that perhaps,  _ perhaps _ , he could allow his brothers to circle war and find Pax Cybertronia – the ultimate utopia of utopias.

But the foibles of personhood were the most vicious weapons and downfalls of them.

He tried, no one could say that he did not. Liege danced between tribes, between cities, and spoke gently to them all. He offered aid and sent out his own diplomats to speak in his name. And yet,  _ yet… _

Onyx rattled his saber at Prima. Megatronus said little but he had no disguise for his wandering optics. Honey words had no use and Liege began to deflect instead.

Fault was placed. Blame was established. His diplomats wormed their way into the rotten meat, and spoke with open servos and closed words.

It wasn’t a lie if it  _ helped. _

And it… went on. Liege found a strange friendship with Solus in that time, and spent hours by his forge, warmed as he observed the shining hammer of the sun crash down again and again.  Megatronus’ pining evolved into proper courtship, and the previous clumsiness of it was replaced with fiery intensity on both sides. Megatronus and Solus were both stars in their own right, blazing, shining, brash, and their collision was a fascinating one.

But their blooming love was hardly the epicenter of the world, though Megatronus would likely beg to differ.

Tension ran high, did it not? The longer it went, the more soured Liege became. Friendships that were once-immortal were now brittle. The shining vigor of his youth seemed foolish now. What was Pax Cybertronia but the idle dream of the foolhardy and cocksure? Perfect utopia demanded perfection on all levels, and perfection was no one’s default.

He avoided it all. Liege was oil in the water, sliding past gracefully while leaving behind no trace. What was purpose? What was nature? Why did he seek to balance this massive scale of power and for what end? Why  _ should _ he? Would it be so bad, so terrible to just…  _ not _ ?

Primus had made them to combat Unicron and they had. They’d all played their parts in the great battle against the Chaos-Bringer, too numerous to name, and then they’d fallen disparate when it was done. What was there to be done now? Who were these mechanisms that Liege named brother and why –  _ why _ – did he owe them  _ anything _ ?

The questions circled Liege’s thoughts as he watched his tribe flourish. They were wealthy now, and prosperous. The underground warren was no longer an austere settlement of obsidian. The streets were now veiny white marble, polished to mirror-like smoothness and the ceiling was carved out and inset with a million growing crystals that sang when the wind blew through them. The great interlocking buildings were decorated with jade, lapis lazuli, and gold, all geometrically aligned and painstakingly filled in. Bridges of sunlight connected islands of stone and music played from instruments of blown-glass.

The Forgotten Plains above were beautiful as its underground. From the city below sprawled, the city on the plains aspired to fly. Towers spiraled from the ground, arches swooped overhead, and it all glittered in the sunlight like a star on the plains.

Vigilem had been gone for a long, long time. These people hardly remembered him, for who was he to them but the mythical titan of their Prime? Shorter lives, shorter memories.

But Liege never forgot. So when he called his titan, he did not need anything more than a moment of concentration and a burst of words:  _ come home, come back, come to me, _ and that was that. Waves and wind carried his words to his roaming titan and Vigilem would return.

 

And return his titan did, ignorant of the tension between the Primes, blissfully unaware of the lives of the tribes. He could appreciate the artistry in what his home, Maximo’s lands, had become. Towers rivalled his own in their architecture, and a level of beauty that far outstripped the simple functionalities of a titan had been achieved.

Vigilem should have looked upon all of this with pride, but his spark had never relented the jealousy. It was not just Solus Prime, gifted with creativity and the ability to create wonders. The secondaries, the most blessed and beloved of Primus’ children, had received this gift too. Within their short lives, they accomplished so much.

Vigilem learned much from observing them. It was in his nature, he supposed, as a titan, to watch over lesser life. They did much with the small amount of time they were allotted - building reputations and social circles to traverse in, creating bonds of family and friendship and love. Their lives were so rich, and his was so empty. He considered it, for several years, to heed Caminus’ advice and the urging from all of his brethren; to return to their function and let the secondaries enlighten and enrich him.

But Vigilem’s spark grew cold at the thought and the envy became too strong to ignore. He began to  _ want  _ things, for himself, and questioned why he could not take them.

He lay next to Chela for half a month, studying the ways of the bestial mecha that followed Onyx Prime. They were simpler, but even they were allowed to crave and want, to desire and reject. They had no function but to live as they chose.

Vigilem’s jealousy grew and grew, as did his silence with the other titans. He retreated from the nexus, ignored the gentle worry reaching out for him. Even Trypticon’s brash challenge to answer had gone by silently.

Liege Maximo was the only one who could command Vigilem, and it was a grim titan that returned to the Forgotten Plains and the grotto below.

“My lord. You called for me. I have come.”

 

“So you have,” Liege said, pleased. “Come nearer, Vigilem. I have not seen you in such a long time. Have you anything to say to me? Perhaps you’ve learned something new in all your wandering. I’ve much to say as well.”

Liege stood on the balcony of his manse, overlooking the city further to the west. It remained sheer obsidian still, allowed little decoration, for it needed none. The fierce light of the Prime it housed made up for what it lacked, and so it was a grim sentinel watching the twin cities below and above. A distance remained between it and his tribe - the same stretch that was meant for Vigilem to stand in, unhindered by the walls even if he extended his arms as far as they could reach.

 

Vigilem fit into his home, and some part of him did know to appreciate that. He had been absent for some time, but his Prime had patiently waited for him. The great titan folded himself into a sitting position, resting his helm on his arm so his optics were level with his lord on the balcony. 

“I have seen much and learned more. I still do not wish to be a city.”

His determination was unmistakable. Vigilem’s defiant stance on his function had only strengthened with his absence, and there was maybe even a notion of pride to it now.

“I’ve learned of the cruelties denied to my kind, and I am not pleased for it. Perhaps my lord will know the answers to what continues to puzzle me.”

Vigilem’s optics had always been a dark multitude of red, but they shone with confidence now, confidence, accusation, and readiness to defend himself. The shift in his mind was slow as tectonic plates, but it had completed itself and now he stood firm.

 

“You spent all this time pondering your purpose? What answers have you found?” If there were answers to be discovered in the first place. Purpose - what did it mean? Why did they have it? “If not a city, then what are you?”

 

“I am...Vigilem.” 

It wasn’t a very long or eloquent answer, but it was the truth. He was no more than he needed to be, he was a being that owed nothing to anyone.

“I am a titan, and I serve my Prime. Beyond that, I bear no resemblance to my brothers. They are content by watching the lives of others. I am not. I have lived, a little, in these years that I was parted from you, my lord. I wish to live like that. To know desires fulfilled that my kin do not understand.”

 

It offered him no answers but Liege did not take umbrage with that. He was silent for a time, observing Vigilem, and a smile spread across his face. To be merely himself, with no purpose nor drive? That was to be… to be like one of the second-forged. It was to be something that existed for the joy of existence.

What a simple notion it was. It was small and paradoxically so large, encompassing ideas that none of them truly grasped.

“Do your brothers not question this? To them, you must look like you are abandoning your duty.”

 

“Yes, they are not pleased. They worry that I am...veering from the path designated for us. But I do not want to follow the path. Is it so terrible to wish to follow my own, my lord?”

Vigilem trusted Liege Maximo like few others. The naive trust of the past that he used to have for Primus and all his creations was long gone, but the faith in his lord remained. Liege Maximo had never warned him of the danger of free thought, and that earned him Vigilem’s trust.

 

“Some would say it is the greatest crime,” Liege said, introspective. “...but not me. If that is what you truly think, I shall not stop you.”

He leaned across the balcony, just enough that his servo could brush Vigilem’s warm plate. “You’ve said more about the cruelties denied to the titans. What do you mean?”

 

“My lord,” Vigilem was too large to feel the small touch, not even registering any pressure on his massive plating. A butterfly could land on a freight train with more impact. “there are many. I hardly know where to begin. Or maybe I do.” 

He was ready to air his grievances and found an eager audience in his Prime. Vigilem didn’t spare any details, expanding his list of injustices over the moment of his assignment to his Prime to the purpose given to him by his creator.

“...and to think my brethren can find such joy in this! Watching a legion of mecha that are less significant than the cornerstone of a building, festering and hollowing in their frames, draining their lifelines for pleasure or greed. Caminus smiles as they paint him grotesque colours; Chela cheers when his brutish citizens tear down his walls in their reckless fights. They live through watching them, instead of tasting the world. I have, my lord. I’ve seen the oceans, the stars, I’ve tasted raw energon, I’ve felt acid rain on my helm...It is a world of experiences that my kin will never share. And that is just sensory input and memories.

My lord, there is far worse. Titans, I have come to realize, were never meant to be people. Primus made us to be homes and guardians. Why then did he give us minds like this? Why did he give us the capacity to feel, the spark to know love, but not the frame for it? I know why; because it is a cruel punishment to humble us. It is a tool to control us, who would be the supreme beings if we chose to be. Primus never wanted the titans to feel, fearing that it might deviate us from the path of guardians. To feel love, to know another’s touch, intimately...my kin do not even know how to dream of this. They ache for it as I do, I know that, but they do not dare.”

An angered sigh blew from Vigilem, turning into a hefty breeze in the obsidian city.

 

An unexpected outpouring of outrage came from Vigilem, so sudden and great that Liege wasn’t prepared for it. He rocked back as the titan expounded every wrong he could define, laying foundations for why they were unjust and what, exactly, he thought of them. Still, he listened. Even when Vigilem slowed down to low, dire growls, he listened.

And he frowned.

“Vigilem, do you mean to say that you cannot be intimate? I thought that titans would engage with each other, or with others.” Though he doubted any second-forged could ever win the love of a titan. They were too fleeting to ever do so. Their mere millennia did not account for the eras titans were meant to endure. 

 

“No.” Vigilem’s dark tone was all the proof necessary. The truth was grim and now, so was he. It wasn’t as if Primus had designed them with a substitute of sorts either. Vigilem had tried and thought about it when it inevitably failed. Connecting mentally never reached beyond anything more than a fleeting awareness of a tiny speck. Nothing was quite like the titan nexus or the bond with his Prime, which used communication channels he was built for. His voice was almost unbearable for the secondaries and they struggled to reply. 

The physicalities of intimacy were also an issue. Vigilem...had inspected his systems. Nothing was capable of any kind of connection like it. True, he did have the possibility of linking with another titan as a city, connecting streets and buildings to one another. For two days, he’d endured that with Tempo. Then, he’d withdrawn when their space-bridges began to use the same coordinates. It was a simple method of expansion, should a pair of Primes decide to share territory. Like, say, Solus and Megatronus. Their titans could fit together, but there was no pleasure to be gained from the process.

“Even when titans link their cities, we feel nothing that could compare to pleasure.”

Two titans could become one city, if their Primes wished it so. But even that was for someone else’s sake.

 

“And yet, you get nothing from it. But you can. Why… why deny you that, if you are capable of wanting it?” Liege wondered to himself more than anything. He was learning more about his titan than he had in centuries and his opinions were fuel for thought. Why, indeed?

“You must have spent much time thinking about this. Learning about this. Is this what your journey was for? To understand what being a titan really  _ is _ ?”

_ And if so, what is a Prime? _

To fight? To lead? To do  _ what _ ?

 

“Yes, my lord.” Vigilem wondered if Liege would continue to be so lenient of his titan’s defiant explorations. Caminus and the others had done their best to rein Vigilem in, failing of course, but no Prime had stirred to stop him.

“Liege Maximo,” he tasted the name, let it reverberate in the caverns of his chest, “do you understand what a Prime is? Would you explain it to me?”

 

“To be a Prime? That is a dangerous question. You will get different answers to it, depending on who you ask.”

Liege and Vigilem spoke dangerous things. Liege, on his balcony, and Vigilem, on the ground, and yet, both were equally dismayed with the state of the world. When Liege continued, his optics were distant, staring past Vigilem and the city both.

“Primus forged us to fight Unicron. So we did - we fought him, we sealed him, and our duty was thought complete. But Primus persisted, giving us you - the titans - then the second-born to follow us. Our duty was no longer to just fight, but to also lead. We argued, we fought, and we settled as allies.”

And now, they were here. Liege felt oddly trapped in his role, as if he could not do anything else but pacify his siblings and continue the status quo. “Perhaps you could see me as free of my duty as a Prime. But look at the world, my dear Vigilem. Look at our people, look at the others, and answer me this.”

Liege leaned in and the light from a reflected crystal caught his face. His optics were small infernos below the shadow of his horns, and his expression was intense. It was the face of someone on a precipice, caught between the choice of jumping or stepping back.

“Has anything  _ changed _ ?”

 

Vigilem thought carefully on his answer. Many things changed. The generations of secondaries switched over, the buildings of dead metal grew, the territories of the Primes shifted. The titans did not. Vigilem changed, but he was essentially not any different. A wandering titan, for a while, but still one who obeyed and would linger in one spot readily.

Was Liege Maximo bound as much as he, to a fate he no longer understood to want? Vigilem felt warmth flow through the great pipes and tubes of his frame as he regarded his Prime. 

“Much has changed, and yet it remains the same. Nothing is changing but the secondaries. Is that what you mean, my lord?”

 

“Look past the surface. Look at  _ us _ .” Liege spread his servos as if to encompass the whole world. “The Thirteen Primes - first-forged of Primus and his generals, pioneers, and lords. The titans - first servant of the Primes, the hearth and guard in one. That is what we are. We hold power, immeasurable, awesome, astounding power… and yet…”

Liege’s servos lowered. His helm bowed and he looked down at the little city in the distance, where he could see the specks that were the second-forged run about.

“...why do  _ we _ want what  _ they _ have?”

He looked away. “Primus created us for a purpose. But them… he made them because he loved them. And his love gave them the most precious power of all -  _ choice _ .”

Liege pushed away from the balcony banister and paced its length, cloak swirling behind him. “Have you changed, Vigilem? Have your brothers? In all the years you’ve lived, have any of you ever  _ made _ anything? Done something for the something for the sake of it?”

His heel clicked against the obsidian and Liege turned sharply. He looked up again and his gaze demanded answers. “What are the Primes, Vigilem? Is violence not our nature? What is the point of this peace, living as we rust inside?”

He stopped. “Why were we given their minds but not their freedom? Such are the questions you invite, Vigilem. Such is the nature of asking what a Prime  _ is _ .”

 

They were not questions Vigilem was fit to answer, but he did not wish to leave the conversation. The frustration pouring out of his Prime was astounding and new and he barely knew what to do with it. Primes were supposed to be composed; godly, in control. But Liege sounded as questioning and doubting as Vigilem himself.

He couldn’t give answer, but affection for his Prime blossomed in his spark. It laced their connection in the closest approximation a titan could have with another.

“Injustice, my lord. It is injustice done upon the first-forged and no one dares ask why.” Vigilem leaned closer, one optic level with his lord, who seemed terribly small and lost. Perhaps not all titan instinct was wrong in Vigilem, because he did feel the urge to protect and guard, to be home and hearth. But it was not for the secondaries. 

“Do we have to bear this burden? I would follow you anywhere, Maximo. To the pit and back. But something must be done. Can we not escape this fate?”

Were they not already? Both casting aside what they were intended to conform to.

 

“To ask why is to already seize the first freedom denied to us. In asking, we question. To doubt, to think… that is its own freedom.  _ We _ dare ask.”

Liege looked up at Vigilem and it was a profound moment. Suddenly, they were not mutually vaguely fond master and servant, bound together by circumstance and duty. Locked here, they were two doubting sparks, lacking answers but finding kindred minds in one another simply by asking the questions anyway.

The connection between them resonated and the tight tension of Liege’s face loosened. The corner of his mouth rose. He stretched out his servo for Vigilem, palm upturned. “We can try, Vigilem. You and I, together.”

 

Vigilem could not offer his Prime his hand, but one finger reached to the balcony and gently touched upon the tiny servo. It was very reassuring to know that at least Primus had given him to Maximo. At least this connection was sanctioned, made to happen. Maybe they were supposed to question the why and how. Maybe they weren’t. What mattered was that Primus’ intention would no longer dictate their future.

“I will never leave your side, my liege.”

He dared use what had played through his mind several times, a slow smirk of a smile playing on his lips. 

 

Liege’s optics dimmed and his helm bowed, but not before the widening of his smile could be seen. He squeezed the great finger in his palm, knowing that Vigilem would barely feel it. “You are a wonderful thing, Vigilem. Never doubt that.”


	4. Chapter 4

Their revelation, as shaking as it is, is ignored by the world. Time marched on and everywhere else, people lived their lives. Liege reached out to Megatronus, whispering for an alliance, and the laconic Prime agreed.

Somewhere, the universe was holding its breath. Life seemed to grow more frantic, as if everyone was preparing for something unknown to them all. And the tipping point, the edge of the precipice,  _ the final push _ …

Solus died.

His hammer no longer moved and his forge became cold. Fuel dripped out of his shattered, golden body, and Megatronus stood over him, the guilt bleeding from his servos. The entire planet seemed to stutter, as if in disbelief -

\- and the pressure  _ broke _ .

The murder of Solus was just the beginning. It started the domino, the trainwreck, as everyone came to a screeching halt and stopped too late to prevent the inevitable derailment. War came for everyone and the inherent violence of their rotten cores exploded from all of them.

Madness seized Megatronus. Righteous fury incited the rest. Liege Maximo watched, slipping through the cracks, until the right whisper reached the right audial.

War came for  _ him _ .

Liege intended to meet it halfway. The twin cities were left and Liege marched out to the fields with his armies. He was not the only one at its fore - no. Behind him, behind the horned banner of the Prime, Vigilem was his avatar of wrath. This was a war, like many of the wars that preceded it, but this time, Liege Maximo intended to break the rules _for_ _good_.

 

War came for Liege Maximo and the Vigilant, but it did not account for what the Prime might offer in return. The armies stretched out before him, tiny fragments of living metal no larger than specks. But it was not his own secondaries that should fear him today. The march had come after a declaration of violence, directed at his beloved lord.

Such was the nature of the Primes. They fell into war as easily as they’d taken up titles and power after Primus departed from them all. The titans shrieked in despair, silently, the nexus filled with anxiety and mourning. Without Caminus, who had retreated into shocked isolation, even the tectonic tempers of the titans were beginning to fray.

Vigilem was glad for it. Finally, something would change.

Before them, along the sprawling borders of Liege Maximo’s lands stood the enemy, filling the horizon. So, so far below Vigilem.

Across the field, the opposing Prime stared in disbelief at the wandering titan.

“Liege Maximo! You dare bring your hearth to battle?!”

It was violating everything Primus had bestowed upon them with the great guardians. Or was Liege already intending to settle the lands he had not won yet?

Vigilem too looked towards his lord, offering his palm for Maximo to use as a platform for his address.

 

Liege Maximo was unfazed by the angry accusation of his fellow Prime. Nexus was his brother, but he was trapped by the status quo as much as everyone else was. Today, he was here to break that stagnation over his knee. He would snap its spine, ground its struts, and destroy it, and he did not care if he would be hated for it.

“I dare,” he said softly. The field was warm today and Nexus’ lines stretched far back. They were here to fight for their Prime. They were here for the unjust murder of Solus and to take payment for Liege’s lies. They were here for everything they believed in and thought was good and right.

But Liege was here for his freedom and they stood as obstacles to that.

“I dare this and more besides, Nexus. This is the mere beginning.” A wind blew and it whistled through Liege’s armor. He turned his face into it, feeling the cold gust… and readied himself.

His spear lit up in his servo.

“Vigilem.” The spear’s leaf-blade tip lowered to point at the army before them.

“Kill them all.”

 

It was an order he’d never received before, and it rushed through his systems, raced to his spark and mind. His Prime commanded him. He obeyed. 

Liege’s army parted for his path, lest they be trampled by their Prime’s avatar of wrath. He did not need cannons or guns, not when the swing of his fists could level cities. Vigilem threw himself forward, a silent force of nature, and Nexus’ troops were powerless before him. He crushed the first battalion that had not managed to evade him. Living metal, tiny frames, all were meaningless before his power. Energon and debris sprinkled his frame, and the titan was unleashed. 

There was nothing Nexus’ forces could do to stop him. They shot, stabbed, screamed their defiance at him and Vigilem obeyed his Prime. Every kill made was for freedom, for himself and Liege Maximo. He crushed the enemy under his mighty pedes, battered whole legions with an arm and set his sights on the Prime who insulted his own by declaring war in the first place.

Nexus stood frozen before the massacre. Never in their squabbling years had any of them thought to use their titan for such devastation. They were living homes, quiet guardians who contented themselves with the lives they protected and sustained, but here was Vigilem, crushing and killing and smashing his troops as if he’d been made for war all along. 

It was horrific, brutal, and fast. Nexus’ troops were devastated and his armies decimated. What Vigilem did not flatten to oblivion, Liege’s soldiers tore apart. The battlefield was torn asunder, until the shocked Prime could do nothing but call retreat to the few sparks left under his command.

It was over quickly and as he stood still, watching the fleeing handful of mecha retreat. He felt...good. Killing was not something written into his code. It went against every single instinct and yet he felt vindicated, as if this battle had truly been the first step to changing what had suffocated him for so long.

When Liege called for his return to the city, Vigilem too obeyed. He transformed into a ship to carry the troops home, spilled them back into the twin cities, and returned to his place before Maximo’s balcony.

He was brimming with what he had done. The lives of hundreds - no,  _ thousands _ of secondaries had been snuffed by his hands. The very lives he was supposed to hold dear and protect. By all accounts, he should be distraught, but the electric exultation of the battle would not leave him.

 

Victory was theirs. Nexus’ army had been smashed against the twin fists of titan and second-forged alike and broke under the onslaught. Now, those shell-shocked survivors would stream back to their homes and allies, bringing stories of absolute devastation.

They might have declared war but he was the one to draw first blood.

Liege returned to his manse, thinking what the next battle might bring, and found Vigilem at his usual place. His great helm was bowed by the balcony and Liege stepped out. “Vigilem,” he said gravely, “you’ve exceeded all expectation today. You could not have pleased me more.”

 

Vigilem raised his helm when he heard and felt his lord's presence. Pride washed through him, but it could not displace the rush and thrill he felt. He'd  _ killed  _ and felt vindicated in doing so.

“My liege, for you, anything.” His voice could scarcely contain his state of pleasant aggravation.

 

“You seem tense,” Liege observed. Vigilem was bouncing on his heels without even realizing it, and his optics were twin spotlights, bright and focused. He’d wondered how Vigilem would react to his first battle - he’d expected concern or upset, not this… intense energy.

“Is something wrong? Damage?” Liege frowned. “Are you hiding something from me?”

 

“No, my liege, I am not damaged. They could not pierce my armor.” Vigilem almost chuckled, but the concern Maximo had for him kept his manners firmly in check. He did want to share the thrilling sensation, newly coursing through him, so he widened their connection and let Maximo feel this heat.

“I feel strange. Agitated but satisfied. At least, this is what I think satisfaction must be.”

 

The connection widened and Liege had a true glimpse of what was afflicting his titan. He stiffened as he realized what it was.

“...Vigilem,” he said carefully, “do you not recognize what this is? Does it not… make you desire anything?”

Could he even comprehend lust? Did he know what arousal was? If not, then why would Primus give him the ability to conceive it? Liege remembered Vigilem’s confession of his lack of array and the frustrating conundrum that intimacy was for him. Could he feel it all, but was locked out by his frame?

 

“I desire...more, I suppose. Was this battle heat? I understand now why the secondaries fight each other for any reason now.” Vigilem did not know what lust was, or what it preceded. All he could feel was a ravenous thirst that had to be quenched with something, at any cost. His plating rattled and his optics blazed as he focused on his lord for answers.

“My liege, what would you have me do? I must do something. I cannot rest for I am filled with fire.”

 

“I’ve no pressing orders for you now, Vigilem. But… come closer. Let me touch you.” Liege stretched out his servo but he was not large enough to cross the distance between them. He did not strain to reach Vigilem, expecting that he would come instead.

Perhaps he could do something about the fire he spoke of. Liege was undecided for now, but he did not have to rush. This was not the last battle, not by a long shot.

 

Vigilem leaned closer, until the side of his faceplate nearly brushed the building. A heated rush of air escaped him, tugging at Liege’s cape.

“I could fight all of the Primes for you, my liege. I could do that.” And he would, if he was commanded. The freedom to take life was immediate and burning in his mind. He’d chosen to do that, something so intrinsically wrong that the titan’s nexus was deadly silent right now. Good. His brothers were horrified by what he’d done, but it was a good shock for them. It was his first lesson that they did not have to conform to the role he didn’t want to have. They could be killers and weapons, if they chose to be.

“My spark is liquid fire.”

It was almost uncomfortable at this point, the restless energy becoming too much for him to contain.

 

“I know what afflicts you, Vigilem. It’s both curse and blessing to the Primes and the second-forged. Up until now… I did not realize you could want it on this level. Once again, I have been proven wrong.”

The point where he touched Vigilem was the epicenter of a rapidly-magnifying electrical wave. It zinged across his plating and sank deeper where his armor was interrupted by seams. The deeper circuitry within him shifted and changed, and Liege felt it happen. It wasn’t a hard task - he was no master of shape like Micronus, but this was something all the Primes could do.

What was denied was no more. Liege rewired the incomplete frame of his titan so that his confused body knew what to do with what his spark said. When that was complete, he tilted his helm up.

“How does it feel?” he asked delicately.

 

Vigilem’s vents steamed a little as his frame adjusted to the new addition, the new, unknown shape that he only recognized because the scuttling secondaries made ample use of it. A panel, of sorts, somewhere by his legs, kilometers away from his helm. Vigilem looked down, one arm angled in so he could touch whatever change his Prime had made.

It was not unusual for a lord to adjust the body of his servant. Solus had made a forge. Onyx a roost. And Maximo had given to Vigilem...something.

The heat rushing him flooded downward and a sweet pain plagued him. He didn’t feel relieved, despite the new parts which hissed and clicked and shifted into a large protrusion that Vigilem had nothing for.

“My liege,” he growled, his voice a mild thunder by the balcony, “what did you do to me?”

The fire might be localized, but it wasn’t going away.

 

He looked down. Really, what  _ else _ was he going to do? After a short pause where Liege considered if he  _ really _ thought this all the way through, he looked back up at his servant. Vigilem did not seem to realize what he’d been given - or, at least, what he was meant to do with it.

“I gave you an array,” he said, “and all the necessary circuitry to process its data.”

He could not help it. Liege looked down again.

“...I can show you how it works.”

 

Vigilem was processing the data, but it didn’t strike him as terribly workable. Even with an array, he could not share the fire with anyone. The new data lazily supplied him the correct term for what was scorching his systems. Lust, that’s what it was called.

He felt an overwhelming amount of it at his disposal, with somewhere to pool, but nowhere to go.

“Please, my liege.”

He needed help and if Maximo wasn’t feeling generous enough to help him out, Vigilem did not know how he would relieve this terrible and wonderful tension.

 

“This might be uncomfortable,” Liege warned. “I can’t help you out  _ here _ . So you must come inside.”

He tapped Vigilem again, but for a different purpose. This time, a new change overcame the titan. With startling speed, he began to shrink. The change was dramatic - where a giant titan once stood, a mech was instead. He was still positively massive by second-forged standards, but he was no longer so unreasonably large.

“Come inside,” Liege said, “and I’ll… explain.”

 

Vigilem was successfully distracted from his new frame part, because his entire frame ceased to be what it was. Instead, he had to look  _ up  _ at the balcony Liege Maximo stood on so frequently. With wide optics, the shrunken titan drank in the sight of everything. He touched the wall as he made his way into the building. It dwarfed him now. If Vigilem turned around and inspected the place he usually rested in, he’d find himself in a tiny fraction of his pede print.

It was with breathless excitement and eager optics that the titan met his master and he too had changed. No longer a tiny, beautiful mech, but an almost equally tall, terribly real one. Vigilem did not dare to reach out and touch him, and he bowed down before his Prime. Who had given him a reward he never could have imagined.

“My liege,” his voice and servos trembled.

 

“My dear Vigilem, now is not the time for kneeling.” Liege bent to gently lift him up and a fond smile found its way to his face. It was impossible to force Vigilem into equal height with him, and so Liege Maximo still only reached his chest. It was better than to be smaller than his brain module, at least.

“Servitude has a time and place. Now is not it.” He touched his face and realized, in a moment of bemusement, that Vigilem was startlingly handsome. Now that he could see his face as a single picture, rather than something so vast that it all came across in parts, he saw his titan as he was.

He traced the red paint that decorated the edge of Vigilem’s optics and stepped closer until he was enveloped in his EM field. Being able to touch his titan as an equal was strange, disconcerting - Liege focused on the way his dark claws contrasted against the brass plating, the way he could meet his optics.

“This will be… personal. Do you trust me?”

 

“As no other,” Vigilem replied eagerly, startled by how much he could feel the touch on his plating. He registered pressure, warmth, and an EM-field to match rather than just echo against his own. His lord had rewarded him even further and the titan would whisper his gratitude if he wasn’t so distracted by Liege’s proximity. He had to stoop slightly, but they were beings of compatible sizes and that was circuit-blowing for Vigilem. If he dared, he could touch his lord and actually feel him. He did not, of course, but his entire existence devoted itself to Liege Maximo harder than any before. The heat pooling in him was turning explosive, sending some sort of fans in his new frame into overdrive, vents pouring steam, and optics blazing.

 

“Ah, I know, I know. You are quite impatient.” Liege talked to himself as his faintly-surprised reexamination of Vigilem ended in favor of something else. Claws slid over plating until Liege took hold of Vigilem’s spike and gave him an arch look.

“As I should expect from my finest servant, you’ve a lovely array. Made by me, of course,” Liege allowed himself a temporary, brief preen, “and it bears some… exploration.”

He squeezed around him and pressed himself closer to the titan. His spike was hot against Liege’s plating, trapped between their bodies as he slowly stroked it. “Do you know what is done with this? You must have seen it - interfacing - at least once.”

 

The fire was on the move. Vigilem just barely kept himself from convulsing wildly as his frame was forcing him to experience entirely new things. Yes, he’d studied the secondaries and their habits with one another. It was impossible not to, when they lived inside of you. Secondaries connected their frames with these arrays and sometimes their sparks too, but he wouldn’t ask about that now.

His thoughts were hectic, driven out by the pulse and ache that was all new to him.

“They...they connect,” he had no adequate equivalent for it at all in the terms of a metrotitan and the only potential thing that came to mind was his brief, ill-advised stay with Tempo, “like bridges.”

 

“...you’re on the right track,” Liege said after a short pause spent untangling what that meant. “It’s not the same, however.”

He let go, which was regrettable enough on its own, and pulled Vigilem back with him. The obsidian obeyed Liege’s silent thoughts and it rose under their feet, taking them to where he wanted to them to be. His rooms.

“Interfacing is - most commonly, I suppose - about pleasure. For some, it is also intimacy.” Liege pushed Vigilem back against his berth, making him fall onto it. It didn’t take much effort, since he was already so shaken. “It feels good.”

He ran his claws lightly on the underside of his spike as he joined Vigilem on the berth. Their faces were terribly close together, enough that Liege could see the exact symmetry of Vigilem’s paint. He teased his spike as he continued, “You can do it in any number of combinations. You overload, if done correctly. It’s… indescribable. It’s good enough that some people chase it like a drug. It can be an  _ addiction _ .”

Their lips brushed as Liege tilted his helm. “ _ I _ want to interface with you, Vigilem.”

 

Vigilem felt as if his chestplate was too small and his spark would burst through the thin armor as soon as Maximo promised him such sweet reward. Pleasure? Like the kind a titan was supposed to derive from an eternity of watching tiny lives cycle through him, or pleasure like the wild energy Vigilem was full of after killing thousands?

He would lean towards the latter, if it promised addiction.

Liege Maximo was a Prime, a divine creation and he’d always struck Vigilem as such. Wise, beautiful, powerful, so far beyond what a titan should look toward in the way that Vigilem looked at his master now. He was in his reach, so he reached for him. The tremble in his servos only stilled when they touched Maximo’s green plating, traced the vivid, blue tubing that decorated the outside of his lord’s frame.

This was more forbidden, though less unforgivable than killing secondaries. Touching his Prime...lusting after his Prime. Vigilem cared little for the rules broken today.

“Then do, my liege. You said you’d show me, and I want more of this...feeling. I crave you as I have never wanted anything.”

Only his jealousy of the secondaries had rated on an emotional scale similar to this. Lust, however, was far more pleasant.

 

“You’ve always been so eager to prove yourself.” He himself was not entirely unaffected by what was going on. On occasion, he had to clamp his legs together and press on, venting hotly as he paid attention to Vigilem instead. This couldn’t be rushed with the assumption that his partner knew what he was doing. Liege was to be his guide and an  _ incomplete _ education would just lead to a poorer performance.

His panel slid back and he took Vigilem’s servo. “Then listen to what I say. Go down - yes, there, and give me your fingers - no, only the two for now - and slowly, just -  _ mmph _ .” His shoulders drew up tight as his valve was prodded by two thick fingers. His grip around Vigilem’s servo tightened. “Slow down. Do you see that node? Press it, not harshly, and just -  _ hah, yes. _ ”

Guidance was going slowly, as Vigilem proved to be a capable - and distracting - student. Liege’s smooth glossa abruptly became stuttery as he had to reword himself several times while a finger sank into his wet valve.

“Don’t rush - it’s not... “ Liege halted as he clenched hungrily around the finger in him, which became positively glacial in speed. “As I said… slow. But not that slow.”

 

It was complex, this interfacing. Vigilem was downright fascinated by the feeling of his fingers, inside of his master, who was  _ soft  _ in this wonderful place that the titan was touching. He wanted to see it more clearly, so he tried to shift himself to drink in the view. Liege Maximo was not his usual, graceful self, and Vigilem dare say he preferred this panting, messy mech. 

“Can I taste you?” he muttered, optics glued to where his hand disappeared inside his lord. His fingers shifted curiously, slowly, and as gently as a titan could be.

 

“You learn quickly,” Liege said between gasps, “you may, but -  _ ohh, Vigilem, please. _ ”

He thought he should have added more, but clearly, Vigilem was learning in leaps and bounds. If he was far along enough that Liege had to remember his own name before he could lecture him, maybe he needed no more advice. He was a mess already, valve streaming with fluid as he rocked his hips into Vigilem’s touch.

“More,” Liege demanded, finally abandoning his fruitless endeavor, “don’t you dare think of stopping now.”

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” But he’d certainly dream of this, every moment that it was not happening. Vigilem could understand how this became an addiction, because he already felt utterly enchanted with the experience. The fire had found focus, and it was all on Liege Maximo. Who looked undone and beautiful with a harsh severity that could shatter Vigilem’s spark if he was deprived of even one moment of it.

And he was the cause of the destruction of his lord’s composure. Vigilem felt warmth that contended with the heated lust and it was wonderful.

“I live to serve you, Maximo,” he whispered the name with reverence as his helm dipped down to see up close what his hand had been petting and investigating for the past minute. Liege was warm here, and soaked, but more importantly, the valve (that’s what his mind supplied vaguely) was soft. And wasn’t that just a miracle? 

Metrotitans didn’t have any soft parts. No tubing or cabling that was designed to hold a city together would be lined with soft mesh, or invitingly parted for his viewing pleasure. Vigilem extracted his fingers, holding open this lovely part of Maximo’s. It felt amazing to touch and he could not keep his lips from pressing a kiss there. That was a sign of affection, that much he knew from observation.

“You are marvelous.” The praise was honest and thoughtless, because Vigilem could not possibly remember why this was all forbidden to him. Did every valve look like this? Taste like this? He licked his lips. The taste was electrifying.

 

Whatever reply Liege might have had was lost as he slung his legs over Vigilem’s shoulders and pulled him closer to his valve. He was insistent, desperate, hungry for more of his titan. The hunger this awoke in Liege was unexpected. After going for so long without romantic or lustful attachments, he’d banished the notion from his thoughts entirely. Until now. He wanted all of Vigilem - his mouth, his big servos, that thick spike he’d touched so freely - and he wanted it  _ urgently _ .

He squirmed and reach down to grab hold of a part of the titan’s helm. “You  _ tease _ ,” he accused breathlessly, “are you so cruel that you would make your Prime beg?”

 

“My Prime has a silver glossa, he would be terrific at begging,” Vigilem reminded, happy with this position and his impending exploration. Maximo was open and eager and what could possibly go wrong? With nothing to fear, no expectation of what was to happen, Vigilem lowered his helm and pressed his lips to Maximo’s valve, kissing the mesh and teasing the node. It wasn’t practice that had him try at this, just general curiosity. Enthusiasm could make up for missing experience by a lot.

His servos held Maximo steady when Vigilem dared to go beyond kissing the valve with passion. His glossa wormed between the warm, soft mesh and his engine growled thunderously with desire; his Prime tasted sweet and Vigilem instantly craved more.

 

Liege’s back bent forward and he curled around the cruel, wonderful mouth on his valve with a breathy moan. He tried to take hold of him, but he kept quivering whenever that glossa did something wondrous to his inner nodes. Liege wanted to stay like this forever, on this cloud of bliss, crying out Vigilem’s name and pleas for more intermittently.

If he’d thought he would keep his austerity while dealing with this, then it’d been disproven now. Where had Vigilem hidden this clever glossa of his? Where had all this boundless talent for ‘facing come from? He had no idea but he did not care, not as long as he was its primary benefactor.

 

There was no hurry in Vigilem’s motions. He knew interfacing could take different forms, Liege had said so too, so why not enjoy each moment of trying what he’d never had the chance to try? His Prime made the sweetest noises, his slender frame writhing here and there as Vigilem traced nodes and greeted the infrastructure of Maximo’s valve. His glossa could fill much of it and his nasal ridge bumped the pulsing node crowning the slit. He was fully dedicated to this, and he felt the restless energy applied in just the right way for it to leave a pleasant burn all over him. This was...amazing. He’d never surrender this again. 

 

Charge exploded from Liege as he surrendered to his overload. He cried out, helm thrown back, and his entire frame heaved as lightning escaped from his seams. His optics flashed white for a half-second and Liege was high above Cybertron, riding a wave so intense that he couldn’t imagine it stopping.

Vigilem certainly was not helping with the way he continued to lap at his valve even as Liege felt the overload ebb and his valve prickle sensitively. He squirmed, panted, and still pressed down for more despite knowing that he could not, really, spend this entire time doing nothing but writhing on Vigilem’s glossa, tempting though it was.

“Enough,” Liege said, pushed him away long enough to find respite, “that is not - I intend more. I want your spike too.”

 

Liege was a spectacle that Vigilem would not tire of. With bright hope and expectation in his optics, the shrunken titan watched his Prime, licking his lips as he smiled.

“Every part of me is yours, Maximo. How should I use this one?”

His own servo wrapped around the thick appendage and Vigilem grunted, undignified and surprised that so simple a motion could feel good at all.

 

“I have my thoughts,” Liege said as he slowly, dazedly rose from the berth. The composed Prime was gone, replaced by someone who was a little half-melted. “Come closer, Vigilem. I shall show you.”

His optics twinkled as he wrapped his slim fingers around Vigilem’s servo. With a tug, he summoned the titan to himself again without effort. 

This time,  _ both _ of them would not be able to speak. Liege would make sure of  _ that _ .


	5. Chapter 5

War encased their lives, but Vigilem's world was filled with wonder. Each battle he fought, each horrendous act of destruction as he clashed with armies and his former brothers was nothing in the face of the simple fact that he felt love.

And not the false kind of his former brethren, the kind Caminus could give lectures about as he cradled the secondaries that depended on him as tiny parasites. The kind of false love that would have a titan, a behemoth of power and life, kneel to fleeting thought of death given shape.

No. 

Vigilem felt real love, scorching and addictive, for his Prime, who was truly the pinnacle of the first-forged creations. Liege Maximo had shown him more than interfacing and the wonders that came with a frame much smaller. Vigilem had explored the twin cities, had seen the legions his Prime ruled over, and had experienced days, weeks at his side before being returned to his full size to unleash devastation.

As time went on, the feverish fascination did not disappear. It transformed, taking new shape and giving Vigilem the answer to what he'd been missing. He was in love with his Prime, and there was nothing altruistic about it. He guarded Maximo jealously, crushing any who dared approach their leader. He also crushed anyone who dared to threaten his leader, but that was to be expected.

Maximo and Vigilem grew closer than they'd ever been before. The interfacing was a regular activity that bonded the two of them tightly to one another. Soon, titan and Prime were nigh inseparable. On the field of battle (and there were many that Vigilem strode across), Liege Maximo would be safe and secure, on his shoulder or within his frame, the only passenger Vigilem would accept.

Not once did Liege ask or command Vigilem to make use of his function. It served to make Vigilem's mad dedication to him even more fervent, and it indirectly lead to Vigilem's severing of his cluster in the nexus of titans.

His willful absence did not sit well with his former brothers and the subsequent clashes on the battlefield became more severe at every turn, but Vigilem was happy. And he'd let nobody take that from him.

The days he spent in his shrunken frame were numerous and always came with his Prime's company. Vigilem enjoyed nothing more than being with Liege Maximo, and he had a good amount of reason to believe that the notion was reciprocated.

But even love could not help them escape the war.

The worst days were once they realized the Vigilant had fled the twin cities. The troops returned to empty homes and empty offices where the diplomats and most cunning of the secondaries resided. They abandoned Liege and their betrayal would cost them dearly.

 

Cybertron at war was a beautiful, despicable thing. It was the only time any of them came alive and used their fullest potential. Peace was just a lie - beloved, but fragile. The betrayal that came made Liege bow for only a moment before he turned away.

It was to be expected. Such was the nature of all Cybertronians, no matter when or how they were made.

While Liege Maximo bent under the weight of the war and Vigilem followed him doggedly, the little second-forged that run around their pedes took note of the two beings who ruled their lives. Gossip spread like wildfire as Vigilem’s presence at Liege’s side became even more apparent, and many mouths dropped when the news finally came through.

It started when someone whispered that they saw Vigilem doing something…  _ crude _ near their lord’s manse. It continued when someone else confessed to seeing them in a passionate embrace, helms bent to one another as they spoke. It strengthened as everyone saw Vigilem adore Liege Maximo without reservation.

It was an incredible notion. It was juicy gossip. It was the scandal of the age. A titan who loved his Prime, and a Prime who tolerated it?  _ Unheard of. _

However, the tribe was not privy to everything that happened. The titans spoke of Vigilem’s loyalty for his Prime and slowly, one by one, it dawned upon them too that Vigilem was not merely a follower. The other Primes found out as well, and it was shocking. Unbelievable. Even a little  _ obscene _ .

_ Vigilem lusts after his Prime _ , some said.  _ Liege Maximo allows it _ , others said.  _ He does more than allow it, _ it was thought.  _ They’re involved. They want each other. You can see it in their eyes - they are mad. _

The disconnect of the nexus was the final straw. All the titans finally, slowly, accepted that Vigilem was permanently lost to them all. He’d chosen his rebellion over them.

Meanwhile, rumor hardly touched Maximo. He worked diligently to win his battles and during the rare moments of peace, he sat with Vigilem and spoke low, sweet things to him. At first, they shared a goal. Then, they shared a place. Finally, they shared a berth, where Liege would rest his helm against Vigilem and take shelter at his side for just a moment.

Liege didn’t last a century of their new balance before he broke. During the last moments of battle, when Vigilem stood triumphant with his blades dripping fuel, Maximo whispered his love. He repeated it again later, when they were alone in his manse and Vigilem was small again. He kissed his mouth, his cheeks, and the underside of his optics where his paint was bright, and offered him the love of a god.

 

Vigilem drank it in with the greed befitting a titan and not a moment spent with Liege Maximo was anything short of bliss. To know his Prime, his shining, guiding star, loved him was more than enough reward for him. The war could last an eternity, he would not care. It could demand he kill his own former brethren and Vigilem would obey and slaughter them all. As long as Liege Maximo stood triumphant and loved him, Vigilem could carry the entire world on his shoulders.

A god and a titan was a potent mixture and impossible to remain secret. Rumor already paved the way, but when Liege and Vigilem had confessed to one another, there was no need for idle gossip. It was in the open, they brandished it like a shield to the rest of creation.

It was the deepest offence they could make to their given roles in the world and it struck a deep chord with the titans to know Vigilem’s spark had become so poisoned that he was not just lost, but a threat. A consensus had to be reached, regardless of the warring factions they were part of. It would take them months to deliberate within the nexus, but nevertheless, they set an idea into motion. Every Prime and titan involved in this war was on similar footing, except Vigilem and Liege Maximo.

Blissfully unaware of such decisions, Vigilem sat by the balcony, running a hose over his arm, which had been scorched by Chela in a rather heated battle. The metal was warped and blackened, but it didn’t hurt.

 

Rather than take his usual place on the balcony, Liege was curled in a small nook in Vigilem’s neck. He was at peace like this, optics half-dimmed as he plotted their next victory. The damage that remained on Vigilem was largely aesthetic - nothing that would hinder him, so Maximo did not badger him into allowing the medics free roam on his person.

The cities were quiet, for once. Maximo could offline his optics and picture himself in the silver city of Vigilem again, unvisited by anyone but himself. Their link was placid, thrumming with their minds but not in active use. Every so often, the presence that was Maximo would brighten and send a burst of ideas that was always tailed by affection before dimming down as he went back to his own mind.

 

Vigilem chased each burst with bright enthusiasm, folding the ideas into his own consciousness to be examined slowly and incorporated into their future. Even if they were nonsensical, he held his master’s ideas close and dear. It was in his nature to treasure and behold, and that’s exactly what he did.

He liked having Liege physically present. It was the safest place for his beloved Prime and afforded them time together.

“The tribe has become very small, my liege. Can we still fight?”

 

“We can. We must.” Maximo would not relent in this war nor would he run. Either he won… or they both died. Anything else was unacceptable. “I trust you and the remaining loyal to not falter on the battlefield.”

The war was chipping away at their strength, slowly but surely. Maximo always felt a little tired as if he had nothing more to give, but he could not allow himself to stop now. It was too late to stop this descent.

“Do you harbor doubts?”

 

“Not about you, my liege,” Vigilem chose his words carefully. He did not wish to add to his lord's burden, he sought to lighten it somehow, but found it impossible.

“I doubt the remains and their intentions. They have been so cowardly lately, always trembling behind me. They should be proud to be fighting for you, and yet they're afraid.”

 

“Fear, unfortunately, is part and parcel of any mech. I cannot punish someone for being a coward - only for what he does with it. If they follow, if they fight, then what is the matter?”

Despite his words, Maximo was troubled. He knew what Vigilem spoke of - had seen it long before this moment - but it was not something he could force out. Morale was lowering, little by little, and he dreaded to see what might happen when the war finally wore it down to a nub. But that was also why he had to win this war. He had to be riskier, faster, crueller, than his brothers, or else they would win him out by simple attrition. They had more tribes than his - the number varied, depending on if the Primes felt like cooperating, but outnumbering Maximo’s forces was a given.

“It will not matter,” Maximo said finally.

 

“The other titans have risen to serve their Primes as I have. It will not be long before they unite against us.” And Vigilem feared for the day when he'd be overwhelmed. Not because he was afraid of his own defeat, but because he would never allow anything harmful to happen to his lord.

“Perhaps you should participate in the battles only from within me, my liege.”

 

“And abandon my own troops?” Maximo turned to face him, consternation written all over his face. “What would it look like, then? I would look a coward to my own tribe, refusing to participate in battle even as they fight.”

Vigilem’s suggestion was summarily dismissed. “Don’t be absurd, Vigilem. I, of all people, am the least likely to be hurt.”

 

Vigilem hummed with displeasure, damning the pride within his lord. Liege was the singular target, the priority. No one banked on taking out Vigilem and he knew that too. If anything, they would reach for his godly love.

“I do not care for the tribe. I care for you. I fear for you.”

 

“You fear too much, dear Vigilem.” Maximo settled back into place, nestled up against his titan, protected in the curve of his neck. “This will be fine. If the worst comes, we escape. But not a moment before certain defeat. We must fight until then. Surrender is not an option.”

He kissed Vigilem’s side, even though he would barely feel it at this size. He knew his concern came from a genuine place, which was why Maximo did not snap at him for it. Having someone worry for him was… nice. Even if it was misplaced.

“We will not fall,” he reassured him, “no one part us. As long as you are by my side, we shall be fine.”

 

“As long as you are defied, I will fight.” Vigilem was soothed by his lord's confidence and warmed by his trust and affection. How could anyone stand to defeat them, when they found such peace in one another? Vigilem knew this was what he wanted, to be with his lord, undisturbed by what the world demanded as they carved their own path.

 

“That is all I ask, Vigilem,” Maximo said. His optics dimmed as he relaxed against him. “You and I, always. They will never separate us.”


	6. Chapter 6

It took another century to wear them down. The fighting never cooled. Each time, Liege Maximo and Vigilem charged out of the Forgotten Plains, defying their siblings to the last. The only truce that ever came was to honor Solus’ death. After that, Megatronus disappeared and Maximo continued to bare his teeth at all.

Their last desperate stand was against overwhelming odds. Finally, Maximo’s pride let him grit out that they had to run. All that was needed now was to turn and run until Vigilem could transform and bear them off the planet.

But the battle would not allow them. Vigilem was under too much pressure to disengage and Maximo lay inside him, heavily wounded after Onyx gained a lucky strike on him with his mace. Half his chest and most of his left arm were shattered, useless, and all Maximo could do was cling to life and watch Vigilem fight for his life.

_ ::Great city!:: _ Calvor-1, leader of the tribe, cried out through the comm. He and his sect were the last remainders of Maximo’s tribe, the last loyal left after so many desertions and deaths.  _ ::Liege Maximo needs aid before he perishes. Please, let us in so that we may help our Prime!:: _

 

Vigilem thundered his dismay, great engines rumbling and stuttering as the battle wore on. It was not a mere confrontation between two titans; Metroplex had joined forces with two of his brothers to bring down the defiant titan. And still, Vigilem stood, angry and shaken even as entire districts were struck from his frame. Chela had torn into him with beak and claws, Metroplex had pummeled him with punches and Caminus had found the worst opportunities to hold him still so the others might do damage to him.

The armies crumbled to nothing around him, the last remaining forces of Liege’s tribe dispersed and destroyed. Vigilem was all that was left, the only force Liege had left.

And still Vigilem stood and fought, singular in his existence, furious in his mind. All the while, within him, Liege Maximo was damaged and in pain and their bond flooded with his cries. Vigilem could barely keep himself from ripping everything in his path apart, and it was largely the worry for his beloved lord that held the reins.

When Calvor-1 approached him, Vigilem was half-mad with worry, as Liege’s energon leaked into his insides. He did need assistance and Vigilem could not offer it to him. He was too big, too clumsy, too much of a titan to help his Prime now.

So he stilled, and opened for the surviving tribemembers. Surely, they would finally fulfill a fraction of their purpose and show gratitude to his lord. They would help him, and he would keep fighting. Vigilem hated every moment that their tiny pedes strode inside of him, but his lord’s well-being took unmistakable priority to his discomfort. He could purge them later, when it was safe. For now, he had to bear the onslaught from Metroplex, Chela and Caminus as he flooded his bond with his Prime with concern.

“Maximo, help is coming, please do not exert yourself.”

 

Calvor-1 and his followers streamed into the titan. They did go up his internals, up to where Liege Maximo lay, collapsed. Calvor-1 had been with Maximo since the beginning, learning at his feet, absorbing his philosophy until he rose to prominence. He was the first of the second-forged and second to only Vigilem himself in how much favor Maximo doled out. He was loyal.

Until he was not.

He knelt by Maximo, but it was not to help him. Two of his mecha pointed their spears down at their collapsed Prime and Calvor-1 dropped a teleportation matrix within Vigilem himself.

The second-forged, no matter how great, could not hold a Prime of Maximo’s caliber, injured or no. But another Prime was a different story.

Yellow light flashed and great pinions stretched out within Vigilem’s halls. Onyx Prime, helm high and gaze fierce, held out his mace over Maximo’s prone frame in silent threat.

“Surrender,” he said, rough voice solemn. “Or I’ll kill your titan.”

Maximo would not have surrendered if the threat was to him. But for Vigilem…

His horns dipped to the ground as he looked down, teeth gritted. With the spears of his own tribe pointed at him, Liege Maximo whispered, “Vigilem. Leave me.”

He reached out and grabbed the mace with his remaining servo, goring his palm as he did so, and everyone within Vigilem broke apart into refracted light as Maximo expended the last of his power to take them all out.

They reappeared some distance away on the battlefield. Onyx reacted swiftly, swinging his mace down, but Maximo rolled out of the way. He stood up on unsteady feet, wobbling in place, and vented heavily as he tried to retain consciousness. All around him were enemies and he’d exhausted himself for this final act.

“Vigilem, go. Please.” 

 

It was the first time that Vigilem struggled to obey an order given to him by his Prime. It took him a long moment to understand the betrayal that had taken place within. By the time Vigilem snarled vicious threats to kill everything and everyone, Liege had already surrendered himself to the heart of danger.

Metroplex was currently pinning Vigilem in place, Caminus had his legs, Chela his other arm. Vigilem bellowed his anger into the world and fought with renewed strength, given to him through anger and outrage alone. Metroplex flattened the landscape where he was hurled away, Chela crashed into a mountain, and Vigilem plowed forward, towards the Primes, raw fury blazing in his optics.

“I won’t leave you! I promised!”

 

Onyx whirled around and his optics blazed fire as he saw the titan bearing down on them all. He did not falter - instead, he winged up and his mace shone with power as he prepared for this new enemy. For anyone else, a titan was an impossibility, a being so great that it might have been as futile as fighting a mountain.

But the Primes were masters of this world for a reason. When he struck, his mace let out an eagle’s shriek and power burst from it. This was a weapon of Solus’ forge, divine and righteous, and Onyx wielded it well.

But the clash of the giants was not ignored. Liege Maximo fell to his knees as the ground grew unsteady under him and power sputtered to his servos as he tried to draw them both away. But when he tried to stand again, a spear drove into the back of his knee and out. Battered as he was by Onyx’s second assault on him, he could not resist it.

He gasped in pain as the knee gave out under him. But before he could turn, another spear drove into his back. It was thrust with such force that the spearhead came out on the other side and drove into the ground, pinning him there.

He looked back to see who’d done it.

Calvor-1 stood holding the spear that struck his back. At his side, Obsidian held the one that had taken his knee. Anger sparked in his gaze and he moved to strike until agony burst in his helm like a nova. Onyx had smote Vigilem, dealing greater damage than any of the titans had. He was a tiny speck before him, but he shone like a furious, burning star.

The division of his attention was a fatal one. In the brief moment that Maximo turned to look at his titan and reach for him in a futile attempt to assist him, another spear was plucked from the ground from the grey servos of a fallen soldier. This time, his last servo was driven flat on the ground as it was pierced. Calvor-1 stood over him, grim, and he cried out to Vigilem.

“Surrender, Vigilem, or he dies!”

 

Nothing was supposed to stop a titan, but the moment that Liege Maximo cried out for him in pain and despair, Vigilem did stop. Struts grinding, frame reeling from the blows dealt to him by Onyx Prime, the great city who never wished to be one came to a halt, optics smouldering with hatred, his bond to his Prime thrown wide open in worry and fury.

“My...my lord.”

The specks that beset his lord were threatening his life. Vigilem could crush them all with one fist, but his beloved’s life would be taken if he dared to make another move. So he froze in place, bowing his helm to Onyx Prime. It was not enough, and Chela returned to force him to his knees before the lord of beasts. Chela’s sharp claws cut through his shoulders, grabbed his neck and kept him down.

Onyx was speaking, Metroplex was berating, but Vigilem could not wrench his gaze from his lord, prone, impaled, reaching for him and pinned, by the very mecha Vigilem had let inside to help him. Guilt broke down the last of his hope that they could make it out of their inevitable defeat. He’d put his lord in this position, and Liege had even offered himself up to protect his titan. Vigilem keened for his beloved, desperately reaching out for him across the bond.

 

Liege Maximo was no longer the image of a Prime. He was pathetic where he lay, broken and bleeding, unable to do much else but stare at Vigilem. Were they to die here? Would Onyx execute them both for their continued defiance?

He could not say. Trembling, he tried to push himself off the ground and reach for Vigilem, but all he did was push himself along the spear length. Agony made him groan and his helm dropped. He was slowly becoming numb. At this rate, his injuries would take him before anyone else could.

_ Vigilem _ , he whispered,  _ why didn’t you run? _

At least one of them would have lived. At least…  _ at least _ …

His optics offlined as Maximo succumbed. Not dead, no, but close. Too close. Onyx noticed and with a gesture from him, the traitors pulled the spears out from Maximo’s frame. He picked him up then, gaze unexpectedly remorseful despite what transpired, and cradled the body of his fallen brother close.

“Chela,” Onyx ordered, “bring the traitor titan. When Maximo is healed… we will give them their punishment.”

He turned, wings rustling, and walked with Liege Maximo in servo.

-x-

 

They held Vigilem in chains for three weeks as his master recovered. His former brethren took turns speaking to him, berating him, accusing him, but the rogue titan had only the same questions for them, over and over again. Where was his lord? Was he being treated? When would he be returned to Liege Maximo as he ought to be?

Metroplex held council over Vigilem’s crimes, but it would be the decision of the Primes what punishment was fit for his betrayal. The titans agreed that he should no longer remain as he was, that he did not deserve the name he’d been given. Exile was their verdict, and that was a mercy thanks to Caminus, whose grief-stricken pleas were heard. No more death, he’d begged, even for a vicious and poisonous spark as Vigilem’s.

Metroplex agreed. Death was not the way to make Vigilem repentant for his crimes, and so, exile became his sentence. But it would not be the freedom Vigilem sought, not the solution that would have him leave Cybertron behind with his lord at his side.

Liege Maximo was overseen by the greatest healers that Cybertron could offer. The mech who led it was once a follower of Solus, but was mute with grief after his death. Instead, he healed Maximo in silence, never speaking despite his question of what happened to Vigilem.

They were kept apart until Maximo was deemed healthy enough to be punished. The Primes conferred together during his healing, so their decision had already been made. In disgrace, he was dragged out to the great square that would be his place of judgment.

Vigilem was taken by his fellow titans. Maximo was escorted by his former-followers. His servos and feet were cuffed together, forcing him to shuffle. Around his neck, a heavy collar restricted his power. He was gagged, so that he would not use his silver glossa anymore. Smaller, greyer, and weaker, Maximo was forced to kneel before the residing Primes.

Prima sat in the center, his brothers around him. A space had been left open for him and Megatronus both at the judging table - a gesture of respect that was both mocking and painful. Beside the Primes, arranged around a smaller, shorter table, the leading triumvirate of his former tribe sat, watching him. Calvor-1, Obsidian, and Brutus were impassive, seemingly untouched by their ruined Prime.

“Liege Maximo,” Prima said, “you’ve perpetrated a war against those you swore to be loyal to. You drove us all against each other with your lies, plotted for power, and allied with Megatronus when he murdered Solus.”


	7. Some Day You'll Die

He had no answer for the charges laid on him. When he turned to look at Vigilem, his helm was forced forward.

“We deliberated for a long time what to do with you. Execution was our first thought but…” Prima grimaced, pain flashing across his handsome face, “both Solus and Nexus are dead now. There has been enough death and suffering for a lifetime. We will not kill you, Liege Maximo, but you  _ will _ be punished adequately. Bring it.”

He addressed his last words to the second-forged watching Maximo, and two left Maximo’s line of sight. A short moment later, they brought a veiled object carried on a platform. When the tarp on it was pulled away, a clear, crystal box was revealed.

“You’ll be sealed within,” Prima said, “unable to ever open it yourself. Your powers will be of no use to you, Maximo. You’ll stay inside until we see it fit to release you.”

He said nothing. He glared instead, still as he glowered. Prima met his gaze head-on as he said, “Onyx. Alchemist.”

The two Primes in question stood up. They walked to Maximo and took him from his escort. The cuffs around his servos and feet were unbuckled. When he tried to lash out, Onyx struck him across the face with the back of his fist.

The collar was removed next, then the gag.

“A prison for me?” he hissed the minute he could speak. He was dragged towards it as the box was held open, and struggled. “A prison, while Megatronus wanders the universe? This is what you have decided for me, Prima?!”

“You’ll be sealed within your titan,” Prima said, “since you asked that you not be parted from him.”

“You-!” Maximo jerked forward but his brothers’ grips were solid. “You  _ mock _ me!” he screamed across the square. “You will not make Vigilem my prison! For all that you accuse me of monstrosity, you -”

“Enough,” Onyx growled and he wrenched Maximo forward.

He fought, but there was little use. With his powers held in check by Alchemist, Maximo was pulled into the box despite his enraged shouts. The box was hardly taller than him when he was kneeling, and not much wider. His voice was abruptly cut off when he was forced inside, struggling, and the box was sealed after him. Forced into an uncomfortable crouch, his shoulders bunched up and his knees drawn in tight, Maximo couldn’t do much but twist, trapped as he was. 

He was sealed in, furious but powerless. When his mouth moved and his palm slapped against the box, no sound came.

 

Vigilem, meanwhile, was forced to watch all of this in the shackles placed upon him by his former brothers. The proceedings were haunting to him, with his Prime receiving an undeserved punishment for craving freedom. He didn’t have the strength left to raise his voice, not after the weeks he’d struggled to escape from the hold of the other titans. Overpowered, he had to concede defeat and watch their fate be decided by unsympathetic, former brothers.

Maximo’s sentence was odd, but at least it was not death. When Prima declared that Vigilem would be Liege’s prison, a sliver of relief came upon the titan. Once they were exiled together, he could find a way to open his lord’s prison and they’d be truly free, as they sought to be. The mercy of the Primes and the titans would be their downfall, and they’d pay for the pain they’d inflicted upon Liege Maximo. 

The box containing his lord was brought towards him just as Metroplex forced Vigilem into transformation through an unwanted, forced connection. Vigilem felt his frame yield, folding into the bulky shape of his spacefaring altmode. Still, Maximo was brought inside of him, close and closer, to his brain module in fact.

Warmth and affection pulsed through the bond they still had, which was not limited by Maximo’s prison.

_ My liege, my love...we are together, at the very least.  _

 

The prison was stored inside his brain module and Liege found himself in darkness. He reached out for Vigilem, scrabbling at the smooth, cold walls, and wrapped himself in their link as tightly as he could.  _ We are together _ , he said fiercely.  _ That much is worth it, at least. _

“Your punishment is not complete,” Prima continued after it was done. “Calvor-1, speak.”

“We will be your wardens,” Calvor-1 said in a flat voice. He looked upon Vigilem without sympathy. “We renounce Liege Maximo as our leader and renounce his ways. There will be no more lies, not after everything he has done.”

_ No more lies, after his greatest one _ , Maximo hissed from inside Vigilem.  _ He calls me betrayer, when he learned at my feet what he did. _

“And to prevent him from ever escaping, I’ve suggested your final punishment, Vigilem.” Calvor-1 tilted his helm. “You’ll be put into stasis. Never again will you act against anyone again, or assist Liege Maximo in his plots. You won’t escape punishment _ this _ time.”

Maximo was shocked into silence for a moment. Suddenly, he exploded inside Vigilem, banging against the walls as he screamed,  _ No! NO! _

 

A shudder ran through the prone titan as the former follower of his lord spoke his vicious punishment. Some cold, distant corner of his mind understood the cruelty of this verdict; without Vigilem, Maximo would never be so powerful that he alone could threaten the other Primes. Without Vigilem, Maximo might not even have reason to fight the other Primes. It was all terribly logical and Vigilem felt numb as Metroplex forced him still. 

Helpless. He was helpless. Fear, despair, everything that he felt, he fed back to Liege Maximo through their bond. He looked to crawl into his lord, his mind clinging as best he could as the former members of their tribe entered his brain module. Vigilem would have shot them if he could, would have transformed the chamber and ground their frames to dust, but Metroplex controlled him, held him still.

And spoke, in that mountain-grinding voice of his.

“You are no brother to us, Vigilem. You are our shame, and you will be forgotten. Learn from this that you are not an island unto yourself.”

The vicious remark Vigilem had for his former brethren was turned into a cacophony of hissing and sputtering as the first functions were severed from him. Speech was chief among them, followed shortly by autonomous transformation. 

Metroplex released him, and Vigilem could not move. He remained stationary, a mass of blue and orange metal, vibrating with anger and fear as Vigilem’s mind wrapped itself around Liege Maximo’s.

_ My liege, I feel...cold… _

 

_ Vigilem, stay with me. _ Maximo reached out for him desperately as the darkness seemed to grow thicker. The lack of cohesion on the other side made his panic spike as he tried to hold him tighter to himself, as if by sheer strength of will he might keep Vigilem with him.

_ They can’t - please, not you. Vigilem, please! _

But slowly, surely, Vigilem was slipping away from him. Maximo could feel him going dark, piece by piece, and he wanted to wail from the unfairness of it all. He was here, he was so close, and he could do nothing but run his claws down the walls as he screamed for Vigilem to stay, please, please stay.

_ Don’t leave me, _ he begged as the link grew colder,  _ you promised me, Vigilem. _

It was no use. No amount of begging could divert reality. As each connection was severed, Vigilem’s higher thought shut down with it. Even the most primal of instincts were destroyed ruthlessly, leaving him inert, useless, cold. Nothing but metal.

_ I order you, Vigilem! _ Maximo shrieked as he battered at the dying link. He summoned his power but it was no use. Unseen in the dark, he wept as the tips of his claws were ground down to nothing against the unforgiving walls.  _ I command you as your Prime! Vigilem, you will stay with me! _

The link went dark. It was a gaping wound inside Maximo’s helm, bleeding, ugly, unresponsive. He tore at it, tore at his own helm, but it was no use as the silence echoed. For million of years, Vigilem had been a constant presence, even before they fell in love. He had grown so accustomed to him being there that with him gone, it was as if a piece of himself was gone too.

_ No! I need him! VIGILEM! _

He screamed as he struck the walls one more time, but there was no one to hear. His throat grew ragged as he cursed and shouted, demanded and pleaded to be allowed even a piece of Vigilem. “Stop! Enough, please! I’ll surrender, just  _ stop _ !”

Not even an echo remained. Not even a wisp. Vigilem was gone, all gone.

Liege Maximo could not collapse inside his prison, as curled as he was. But he could come closer as he shook, knees pressed to his chest, and touched the cold, unfeeling walls. “I’ll surrender,” he repeated, “just give him back. I love him. Please.  _ Please _ .”

But there was only silence left for him.

Liege’s pleas did not fall on deaf audials, but neither the present Primes or titans would give in to his desperate requests. They were not unfeeling monstrosities, each suffering through pity or sympathy, but they had all come to the consensus that Liege Maximo and Vigilem were a dangerous combination. And although their relationship seemed genuine and sparkfelt, they could not be allowed to slip away into exile to plot their vengeance. At least, not together. Liege Maximo was a smart Prime and a brilliant tactician, but the hurdle of his prison would be beyond even his skills. 

 

Even if he managed to find the prison’s flaws, he could not use his power to destroy it, for he would also destroy his greatest asset and servant. 

Prima determined that this trap was the only thing that could keep Cybertron safe from Liege’s cunning. His mercy had allowed Vigilem to not be killed and serve instead, as prison and protection to the lord he loved so much that he’d defied his function and brothers for him.

It was with a laden silence that Cybertron watched the departure of the ship, piloted by its wardens and burdened with its prisoner. This world would not see their return in millennia.

-x-


End file.
